Bowing Before Dignity

by Simon Taylor

The recent images of migrants gathering in temporary shelters in Durban and elsewhere in South Africa have prompted reflection across the region. Families who left their homes in Malawi, Mozambique, Zimbabwe, Nigeria and other African countries in search of safety, work and opportunity now face uncertainty, fear and, for some, the difficult decision to return home. For many observers, these events raise political questions. For Christians, however, they first raise a spiritual question: How do we see the other?

Pope Leo XIV offered a profound response when addressing migrants:

“Dear migrants, before I say any other word to you, I want to bow before your dignity. You are not numbers or case files. You are people—with a family and a home left behind, with dreams that no one has the right to scorn.”

His words invite us to pause. They challenge us to move beyond political categories and social labels and to encounter the human person standing before us.

In the Spiritual Exercises, St Ignatius encourages us to see the world through the eyes of Christ. Such a perspective requires more than observation. It requires contemplation. It asks us to look deeply enough to recognise God’s presence in the lives of others.

Migration has become one of the defining realities of our age. Across the globe, millions of people leave familiar places in search of security, livelihood and hope. Yet behind every movement of people lies a deeply human story: a mother seeking a future for her children, a father searching for work, a student pursuing education, a family longing for peace. The temptation of modern societies is to reduce people to categories. We speak of migrants, refugees, foreigners, documented and undocumented persons. While such language may serve administrative purposes, it can obscure the reality that each person possesses an irreducible dignity that comes from God alone. 

The Christian tradition insists that human dignity is not earned. It does not depend upon citizenship, economic contribution, ethnicity or legal status. It is inherent because every person is created in the image and likeness of God.

This conviction runs throughout Scripture. Israel is repeatedly reminded to remember its own experience of exile and displacement. The people of God are commanded to welcome and protect the stranger because they themselves were once strangers in Egypt (Exodus 22:21; Leviticus 19:33–34; Deuteronomy 10:19). In the New Testament, Jesus identifies himself explicitly with those on the margins of society.

“I was a stranger, and you welcomed me” (Matthew 25:35).

These words have particular significance for the Society of Jesus. The Jesuit tradition has long sought to accompany those who find themselves on the margins of society. Whether through education, pastoral ministry, social justice work or the accompaniment of refugees and migrants, Jesuits have been called to encounter Christ where human dignity is most vulnerable. Accompaniment begins with presence. Before solutions, before programmes and before policies, there is the simple act of being with another person. Ignatian spirituality teaches us that transformation often begins not with action but with attention. To truly see another person is already to affirm their humanity.

Pope Leo’s invitation to “bow before your dignity” is therefore deeply Ignatian. It is an act of reverence. It recognises the presence of God in the other. It calls us to humility before the mystery of another human life.

Such reverence is especially important in societies marked by inequality, fear and social fragmentation. Economic hardship can create suspicion. Competition for scarce resources can fuel division. Yet the Gospel consistently resists the logic of exclusion. It calls believers towards solidarity rather than separation, encounter rather than hostility.

In the African context, this vision finds resonance in Ubuntu. The belief that our humanity is bound together reflects a truth that Christianity has long proclaimed: we are created for relationship. Human flourishing is never achieved in isolation.

The challenge before us is therefore not merely political or economic. It is fundamentally moral and spiritual. The question is not simply how societies manage migration. The deeper question is whether we can recognise the dignity of those whom circumstances have made vulnerable.

Pope Leo XIV reminds us where such recognition begins. Not with judgment. Not with fear. Not with ideology. But with reverence. To bow before another person’s dignity is to acknowledge that every human life is sacred. It is to recognise that before we are citizens of nations, we are members of one human family. In a world increasingly marked by division and displacement, this may be one of the most important spiritual practices of our time. To see. To recognise. To accompany. And ultimately, to discover in the face of the stranger the face of Christ.